


One Good Thing

by theskywasblue



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-25
Updated: 2010-06-25
Packaged: 2017-10-10 06:41:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/96748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theskywasblue/pseuds/theskywasblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hakkai and Gojyo patch things up post-Burial chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Good Thing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sinestrated](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Sinestrated).



Gojyo hadn’t even shut the front door and Hakkai had picked up the suitcase just inside the doorway and headed straight for the bathroom, shutting himself in. The shower started a moment later.

Gojyo’s jaw hurt and he was doing his damnedest not to worry at the split on the inside of his lower lip with the top of his tongue. He made for the fridge, grabbing a beer, a tray of ice and a dishtowel. He wanted to get everything numbed before the pain could really start kicking in. By the time Hakkai reappeared, dressed in his usual loose sleepwear with water still running down the sides of his face from his hairline, Gojyo had a cigarette in one corner of his mouth, a makeshift icepack on the other side, and half a beer in his belly.

“Sit down man, have a beer.”

Hakkai looked around the kitchen for a moment like he didn’t really know where he was, “It’s probably a little late for such things…”

Gojyo happened to think that there was no such thing as too late (or too early for that matter) for a beer. Apparently Hakkai didn’t really either, because when Gojyo went to the fridge and got one for him, he didn’t turn it down. Hakkai sat down, seemed to sag into his chair. He looked shell-shocked, and Gojyo didn’t really know what to say to make it better.

“This isn’t really how I expected my night to end, to be honest,” Hakkai said finally.

“You figured you’d be at Sanzo’s place, sipping tea by now, huh?” Gojyo hadn’t meant to say it, really. Okay, maybe he had; maybe, inside, he was still a little bitter about the whole thing. Of course, that wasn’t really Hakkai’s fault; he had come through in the end. Not like Banri.

When Hakkai answered, he sounded very tired. “I’m not sure Gojyo, honestly.”

“You packed a suitcase,” Gojyo had started the whole thing, so he figured he might as well finish, “Where were you planning to go?”

There was a tiny flare of something that might have been anger in Hakkai’s green eyes, “I really don’t want to discuss this right now Gojyo.”

“Is this about Banri?”

Silence. Gojyo could hear his heart beating, the soft bubbling of his nearly empty beer, Hakkai breathing.

“I don’t know.”

And there it was; the hallmark of their relationship: apprehension mixed with equal parts desire. They could hardly be in the same room for more than ten minutes at a time before they were stumbling over their words – but at the same time they kept coming back to the exact same place, across the table from each other, not knowing what to say, as if the universe was constantly trying to tell them_ “Try again. Try again.”_

Gojyo didn’t like to believe in fate. Fate pissed him off, more often than not. Fate was just an excuse, something to blame when things didn’t go your way and you were too lazy to fix it. He didn’t like the idea that there was some round-bellied god up on a cloud somewhere moving him around like a puppet on a string.

But at the same time…

Everyone dies alone – Gojyo had really believed _that_. He had been alone before Banri; hell, even with Banri around he was mostly alone. Banri was basically a stray tomcat. He came and went in his own time, wanted nothing more out of life than food and sex. When Banri left, life had been the same as always, although possibly a little more so. Gojyo had always assumed that after Hakkai left, things would be the same; but then the guy actually _had_ left – and fuck, it hurt, in a way Gojyo totally wasn’t prepared for, in a way nothing else had since his brother walked out. Then there was the hair – snip, snip – like some moody teenage drama-queen, and he had looked at his own face clearly for the first time in years and thought, _holy fuck…is that me?_

It wasn’t just a matter of custom, either. If he had been the sort to follow habits (more than smoking and drinking of course) he would have continued with things just the way they had been, with or without Hakkai in his life, instead of trying to change. He wouldn’t have so desperately wanted things to be better.

He was a lot like Jien that way. When things were bad, he always told himself that they would get better; and when they were good, he lived one day to the next without thinking clearly, for fear that they would fall apart. Which of course they inevitably would, because living, really living, took _effort_. That was something he had learned from Hakkai.

Along with how to make really good lemon tea and a hundred and one ways to get bloodstains out of cotton.

“I’m sorry Gojyo,” Hakkai pushed his beer aside – he had barely taken three sips – and stood, rubbing at his hands like they might be cold, “but I’m really quite tired. Could we talk about this in the morning?” He pushed his glasses up and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, leaving them tangled in his wet hair as he turned away from the table.

“Hakkai.”

A soft, deep breath, “Yes Gojyo?”

“You’re not going to want to talk about this in the morning. And neither am I.” When Gojyo got to his feet, he swayed a little, a combination of alcohol and the sound beating he had received; still, he didn’t have any trouble reaching out and taking hold of Hakkai’s wrist, giving a light tug so that the brunet turned around. They stood like that for a long time, face to face, just breathing. Gojyo could feel the rabbit-hop of Hakkai’s pulse underneath his fingertips and feel the warmth coming off his body. A trickle of water ran down Hakkai’s temple and dripped off his chin onto the front of his shirt. Gojyo took the glasses off the top of Hakkai’s head and set them on the table; then he reached out and slid his hand up under the hem of Hakkai’s shirt, over the flat of his stomach. His fingers were cold from the ice and Hakkai shivered in response, but didn’t say anything.

Over the last six months, they had had sex a total of five times. Gojyo could remember vividly every single one of them. But Hakkai had always been the one who started it because Gojyo couldn’t help but be afraid that it wasn’t really what his friend wanted, that he was asking for too much. After all, Hakkai loved Kanan, and there was no way Gojyo could ever compete with that.

And honestly, he was afraid of that hurt he had felt the first time Hakkai had disappeared from his life.

Gojyo’s fingers traced over the ridge of Hakkai’s scar, warm and surprisingly smooth, even compared to the rest of his skin. Suddenly, he wanted to run his hands all over Hakkai’s body, feel him respond, taste his mouth and swallow the little sounds he would make. He wanted to do something to make Hakkai feel wanted. He leaned his forehead against Hakkai’s and sighed softly.

“I’m useless, I know.”

“Gojyo – you shouldn’t say that.”

Gojyo ignored his protest, “I don’t want you to go. Tell me what I have to do to make it right Hakkai. I want to make it right.”

He wondered if Hakkai understood just how much those words took out of him. He had never asked for anyone to stay with him – not his brother, not Banri – but the thought of Hakkai’s neat and tidy little suitcase sitting next to the front door tore him up inside.

Hakkai closed his eyes, his lips turned up in a smile, “You already did.”

They kissed, tongues moving together, slippery and hot. Gojyo’s lip started to ache again, and Hakkai pulled back suddenly. “Gojyo…you’re bleeding.”

“Yeah – fuck, sorry – I know,” he laid little kisses along Hakkai’s jaw, down his neck, running his fingers through the wet silk of the other man’s hair, “Never mind. Can we…can we just go to bed?”

His question had nothing to do with sleep. When Hakkai said, “Yes, I think we should,” his answer didn’t either.

Hakkai’s skin smelled warm, soapy. It mingled with the sweet scent of the fabric softener that clung to the clean sheets, swirled with the perfume of spring air they had carried in the house after being hung out to dry that afternoon. Gojyo rucked Hakkai’s shirt up, licked along his scar, kissed up the center of his ribcage while Hakkai twisted against the sheets, stroking Gojyo’s face, tugging at his hair, clutching at his shoulders. Gojyo’s split lip left red streaks where it touched Hakkai’s pale skin, but they could be washed away later, in the shower. He already had plans to let Hakkai press him against the cool tile, slick him with soap and fuck him until the water went cold. The thought made him dizzy, so much so that it felt a little like the bed was tilting underneath him.

Hakkai tore the collar of his shirt, sucked on his throat. Gojyo pushed his hand inside Hakkai’s sleeping pants and found the soft cotton wet with pre-come. Hakkai’s cock jerked at even a tentative touch, spilling more fluid on Gojyo’s eager hand. He tugged cotton out of the way, licked the skin clean with long, slow swipes, and swallowed Hakkai to the root.

He ran his tongue over the hot silk of Hakkai’s shaft, and the brunet made a noise, beautiful and helpless, that made Gojyo rock his hips against the sheets, desperate for friction and aching inside his jeans.

“Go-Gojyo stop…” the sound of Hakkai’s voice, breathless and almost panicked, surprised him. Hakkai had never asked him to stop before.

“What?” He rubbed his cheek against Hakkai’s shaft, breathing in the musky-sweet scent of soap and arousal, kissed his hip. His split lip throbbed from all the abuse it had taken that night, but it didn’t taste like it was bleeding anymore. “What’s wrong Hakkai?”

Hakkai half sat up, hooked his fingers in one of Gojyo’s belt loops and pulled. It took a minute for Gojyo’s brain to clue in to exactly what Hakkai was suggesting, then he swung his hips around, swallowing Hakkai’s length again as Hakkai fumbled his pants open. Gojyo nearly came the minute Hakkai’s lips closed around him, teeth scraping against his foreskin, tongue sliding over his crown, flicking at the slit. Their bodies locked together, end to end; Hakkai’s thighs trembled under the press of Gojyo’s hands, and when Gojyo relaxed – fighting against the heat running up his spine – and let Hakkai’s tip slide all the way to the back of his throat, Hakkai came immediately. Gojyo didn’t last long after that.

It was hard to move afterwards, but kissing Hakkai’s thighs wasn’t as enticing as kissing his slack, wet mouth; and feeling Hakkai’s hands sliding over his back and legs didn’t make Gojyo feel as safe as having them cup his face or smooth back his hair.

“Your face is going to look awful tomorrow,” Hakkai murmured, fingertips feathering over Gojyo’s jaw, “it’s already so swollen…”

Gojyo tipped his head, kissing Hakkai’s palm. He was too busy feeling good to think about all his vague aches and pains. “Well, it’s a good thing you don’t love me just for my looks.”

He hadn’t meant to use that word – heavy and serious – but Hakkai seemed not to hear it. He only smiled and said, “Yes, it’s a good thing.”

-End-


End file.
